Praying for Rain

Mawgrit opened the large chest and looked at her ceremonial clothes. She knew she had to wear something elaborate to suit the situation, and yet easy to get off. Putting aside her cape and other finery, she pulled out a tapas cloth that had been made by her great, great grandmother. The old cloth, made by pounding the stems of plants, was soft and pliable. The sacred symbols were almost worn out, but this would be perfect.

No rain had fallen in months. The river had dried up to a small trickle, barely enough to water the even smaller gardens the women had scratched out of the hard dirt. The once lush, green valley that had been their home was dying. Yesterday, her husband had come to her after a meeting with the tribal elders, and gruffly told her to be ready for today. It was the spring equinox, and they wanted her to perform an ancient ritual to appease the God of Rain.

She was nervous. No one in the village could remember the last time this magic had been used, but all had stories about it. She also knew that after being touched by Lalo, the God of Rain, she would be considered too powerful to stay in her community.

She thought of the young women who were attending to the holy site, cleaning the large flat rock under the ancient tree. Many of them had sat with her under that tree, learning the sacred ways of women. That tree was amazing. It was the only green thing as far as the eye could see.

The time was getting close. Carrying the sacred cloth and her ornaments, she walked slowly to the Women's Lodge. As she entered, she could hear singing and feel the heat of the steam bath that had been prepared for her. A woman approached and started to untie her hair...

"You must be so proud, being chosen to be the gift to Lalo. You will be remembered for generations as being the one who saved your people from this drought."

"It is a great honor," Mawgrit was able to respond. Her mind reeled with thoughts about what was soon to occur. In her mind she could see the sanctified obsidian blade, a common tool used in these types of rituals. This time the knife would not take her life, but instead would initiate a ceremony that would leave her outcast from her husband, her friends, her entire community. Mawgrit would assume the sins of her tribe and as such will become a pariah, forced to leave everything she had known her entire life, and wander the hills welcome nowhere. She was ready to do this, as it was her duty as the Shaman of the tribe, to keep the gods pacified in the first place.

Mawgrit's attendant presented her with a steaming cup of liquid she knew would relax her in preparation for the ceremony. She drank the bitter draft, and leaned back as her nails were trimmed and painted blue. Next she was washed all over with warm water perfumed with flowers picked on the sacred mountain. Finally, her hair was anointed with the finest fragrant oils, and plaited in the style seen only in ancient paintings on the walls of temples. A robe was placed on Mawgrit's shoulders and she was led from the steam room to another where she reclined as her entire body was rubbed with scented grease. As the women worked on her, singing the sacred chants, she recognized the effect of the herbs with which the grease was infused. The gentle heat was followed by a delightful tingling sensation that made her skin pleasurably sensitive to each touch of her masseuse. Every square inch of her body was treated this way, with special attention given to her most sensitive pleasure points; her nipples, vulva and anus.

Mawgrit's attendant sounded a bell, and [after covering her naked body with her robe,] four strong young male members of her tribe entered and picked her up. They carried her on their shoulders, her arms spread wide, past the hut she had occupied for the last five years with her husband who now stood at the door with the three most beautiful young women of the tribe he was given in compensation by the Elders. He fell in behind them as one by one the other male members of the tribe joined the procession.

By the time they reached the holy rock, the entire male population above the age whereupon they could grow dark hair in their genital region, was in attendance.

Mawgrit was placed gently upon the holy stone her limbs secured in a splayed posture and her robes opened to expose her lovely and private places. Her nipples became erect as the cool mountain air blew past them. Her eyes closed and her mind wandered to the pleasurable sensations her body was experiencing as the elders droned the ancient prayer designed to enlist the favor of the rain god in this sacrifice. The sacred obsidian knife was held high in presentation to the throng, whose howls of encouragement were deafening.

The blade was lowered and systematically, starting at her head, every hair was shaved. Then the role was called, and every male of age lined up at her feet; their naked erections too having been anointed with the same sacred unguent used on her body.

The elder's prayer changed and Mawgrit opened her eyes. As she looked at the men, young and old, standing before her, penises erect, eagerly anticipating this event, the air around them shimmered. Her insides quivered with fear, but just as quickly the sensation passed. She was Shaman. She noticed a warming sensation as if a wall of heated air emanated from the men in front of her. It seemed to focus on her vagina. She looked at the first man that stepped up. He was shimmering in the sun, young and beautiful, and his eyes showed his nervousness at his first time. She smiled gently at him, and then suddenly... everything was gone.

She was looking up at a pale blue, heat filled sky... her skin felt parched... so parched it was cracking in places, and oh so painful. She looked at her body and saw only the dry parched ground. Where her breasts should have been were dry piles of sand like ant hills... where her pubic hair should have been were dry tufts of grass... she tried to lift her hands, but she had none... nor had she any legs... she had become the Earth. Her soul cried out as she felt something drive into her, and then pound into her again and again. It stopped, yet after a sweet moment of peace it started again, over and over again. It was a ceaseless pattern that wouldn't stop. Her soul ached at the intrusion.

Suddenly the air shifted around her, and she opened her eyes to see the heat in the sky coalescing into a bolt of lighting. She screamed as it fell towards her, and scorched the dry dirt skin of her body. The driving pattern ceased for a moment and she could hear the wind murmuring as if it was talking to her, but she couldn't understand. The driving pattern began again. Again the air shifted and lightening fell, and the pattern stopped, but soon started again. And once again the air shifted. This time she heard a scream as the lightening bolt landed... and for a moment reality shifted.

She was back in her body, lying on the stone altar. One of the younger village men was laying on her heavily, his body at a strange angle. His eyes were rolled back in his head, and as he was lifted by the elders, her eyes widened as she saw that his hair had gone totally white and there was a dark burn mark at the base of his spine. She could feel the energy trail of the lightening as it had passed through him into her body. With this awareness there was a tremendous pain, and she lost consciousness.

She woke once again in that space of being Earth Mother. The energy that had caused her so much pain began to radiate throughout her dry dirt body, stimulating the seeds that had been dormant for so long. They were awakening. It caused thrills of pleasure up and down her skin, from the inside out. She could feel the Life force within her Earth body nurturing the seeds and calling them forth. She could feel the Life force within the seeds calling the rain, and she could feel the atmosphere around her answering that call.

More and more pleasure rolled though her being as she felt the energy of the Earth being stroked back to life by the God. Her breasts swelled and peaked, wanting to give feed. The God suckled her breasts, and her womb opened and called the seeds. The feelings grew more intense once again as the energy of the God slid into her, pushing in and pulling out slowly and sensuously, building into a quickening, driving force of Life. She experienced the most intense orgasm she had ever felt, and knew that the planting was done. The Earth was awake. Her valley would live.

As Mawgrit came to herself, she felt the sweet rain on her naked body and opened her eyes to see her husband lying with her, feeling his hands fondling her breasts. She could feel him shrinking inside her, and knew that the magic had been done.

One last time they had made love, and the Earth had rejoiced with them.